When I was 7 I fell down a ravine, probably about 15-20 feet straight down onto a rock, I hit back first. I got up unharmed. I was stunned. As the years passed I got myself into many similar instances emerging with only bumps or scraps. Dog bites, bicycle accidents, sports altercations, fist fights. Other than a couple bruises I was never the worse for wear. No broken bones, no concussions, I never even got the flu.
In high school I went through a phase where I'd have my friends hit me with their cars at varying speeds. The fastest was 45mph.
I totaled four cars and got in over a dozen crashes. Each one I came away unscathed.
At 17 I had walking pneumonia for about two weeks. When I was 25 I had a slipped disk due to a motorcycle accident, I limped for acopule months. Those were the only times I felt any real physical weakness.
I imagine most people feel this way to varying degrees. What they call the confidence of youth. As I got older that certainty started to erode and risky behavior held more consequence. I began to drink tremendous amounts, quickly depleting my physical and mental resilience. It came to a point where, desperate and alone, I was close to the end. A place I never figured I'd be. Depending on your circumstance death can look very ugly indeed.
I recovered, or am recovering, but you never forget a brush with death however glancing. It is no longer an abstract concept, it is a certainty. But I've become accepting of this ever-present inevitability. I'm no longer attracted to danger or peacock my unbroken bones. With a healthy understanding of death you can fully engage in life.
My dad said to me recently "If I went tomorrow, I'd have no regrets." Something I'd like to say someday.
No comments:
Post a Comment